The Broken Throne

by Christopher Nuttall

  She glared at the jailer. “Release her, then put her into the care of the maids,” she ordered, keeping her voice under tight control. “She is not to be harmed or abused. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, My Lady,” the jailer said.

  “I will be following up on her treatment,” Emily added. She allowed magic to crackle through the air. “And woe betide anyone who harms her.”

  The jailer bowed, not quickly enough to hide the flash of resentment, then scurried past Emily and into the cell. Emily sighed – she would follow up on the girl’s treatment – and then allowed Jade and Cat to lead her down the corridor and into a small room. Once they were alone, she outlined everything she’d seen in Mila’s mind. None of it was particularly helpful.

  “So we have a sorcerer running around,” Jade said, when she’d finished. “And one trying to assassinate us.”

  “Assassinate Emily,” Cat snapped. “She was the prime target.”

  “I was also the only one who was in the open,” Emily reminded him. “Alassa spends most of her time in the castle, with Jade. I was... in the open.”

  Cat snorted. “What about me?”

  “You’re not important enough to kill,” Jade said, mischievously.

  “We know he’s a weak sorcerer too,” Cat said, ignoring the jibe. “That’s good news, is it not?”

  Emily lifted her eyebrows. “How do we know he’s a weak sorcerer? How do we even know he’s a he?”

  “If he was strong enough to challenge you openly, he would have done so,” Cat said, bluntly. “Instead, he found an expendable girl and threw her at you.”

  “Or he doesn’t want to risk facing the Necromancer’s Bane, two combat sorcerers and two trained sorceresses,” Jade pointed out. “Even a Lone Power would hesitate.”

  “You wouldn’t let Alassa fight,” Cat pointed out.

  “He doesn’t know that,” Jade said. He cleared his throat. “A strong man might be able to lift a heavy load, every day of his life, but that doesn’t mean he wants to do it. Sending an enspelled girl to kill Emily makes a great deal of sense. If she kills Emily, well and good; if she doesn’t... well, there are plenty more potential tools within reach. We’re going to have to double our defenses.”

  “And set up newer wards,” Cat said. “What happens if the next person under his control happens to be a maid in the castle? Or a guard? Or even one of us?”

  Emily shuddered. She knew her mental defenses were strong – Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles had forced her to work on them – but they weren’t impregnable. There was no such thing as an impregnable defense. A sorcerer with enough raw power could batter them down, leaving her naked and helpless; a sorcerer with enough skill could worm his way through her defenses, twisting her perceptions until she couldn’t tell right from wrong. It was tempting to believe that Cat was right, when he said their mystery opponent was a low-power sorcerer, but that didn’t make him harmless. Skill could often make up for a lack of raw power. And Mila hadn’t really needed elaborate compulsion charms to bend her to his will...

  “We’ll work on it,” Jade said, firmly. “Emily? Did you undo the charm?”

  “Yes,” Emily said. “It was a nasty one, though. We’ll have to keep an eye on her.”

  “I’ll see to it,” Jade said. “And after she recovers?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. “Help her change her name and send her to Beneficence?”

  She shrugged as they left the chamber and headed up to Alassa’s suite. Jade had already tightened the wards, to the point Emily felt uncomfortable stepping through them. It felt as if an invisible force was crawling over her skin, pressing against her wards even though she was on the approved list. Cat didn’t look particularly comfortable either.

  Alassa was sitting at her desk, writing on a piece of parchment; Imaiqah was sitting on the other side, reading a sheaf of reports. Emily had to smile as she sat down on the sofa and waited for them to finish. Alassa was brilliant, but she found paperwork tedious; Imaiqah was smart and patient enough to understand its value. Together, they made a formidable team.

  “These are your credentials,” Alassa said, when she was done. “You’ll be a formal ambassador, free to speak with my voice.”

  “But also free to be disowned, if you say the wrong words,” Imaiqah said.

  Emily nodded. The five of them had spent the last few days discussing precisely what Emily would say to the rebels in Winter Flower – and Viscount Hansel, if he decided to renege on his oath. Emily had more room to maneuver than she’d expected, although part of her was simply tempted to outline everything Alassa was prepared to offer and let the rebels take it or leave it. Imaiqah was the bargaining expert, not her. But Alassa was right. The rebels might listen to Emily, to the Necromancer’s Bane, where they wouldn’t listen to anyone else.

  She took the credentials and read them carefully, her lips moving soundlessly as she parsed out the Old Script. Alassa had indeed given her a great deal of authority, although the parchment didn’t say where the limits actually were. The seal at the bottom was supposed to be impossible to forge, proof that Alassa – and no one else – had written the document. But Emily had her doubts. On one hand, it was unlikely the rebels knew what the seal was meant to look like; on the other, magicians had been trying to duplicate and forge blood-bonded seals for years. If someone had finally succeeded...

  “Thank you,” she said, putting her doubts aside. “I look forward to speaking to them.”

  “No, you don’t.” Alassa knew Emily disliked public speaking. “Anyway, what happened?”

  Emily sighed and ran through the whole story again. “Mila was just another victim,” she concluded. “She can be released once she’s had a chance to calm down.”

  “I see,” Alassa said.

  “And we have a rogue sorcerer running loose,” Jade added. “We have to catch the bastard.”

  “Which will be tricky, as long as he doesn’t show himself,” Alassa said. She looked down at her hands for a long moment. “Emily, are you still prepared to go to Eagle’s Rest?”

  Emily hesitated. It did have to be done. Viscount Hansel had been agitating for a hasty departure, even threatening to leave without Emily and her party. But she was also concerned about leaving her friends. Jade, Alassa and Imaiqah were skilled magicians, yet they could be taken by surprise. Who knew what would happen if they made a mistake that allowed an enspelled thrall to get too close to them?

  “Yeah,” she said, finally. “If you want us to go, we will go.”

  “It should be fun,” Cat said, reassuringly.

  “Hah,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. There would be no carriage this time. She’d have to ride a horse. “You’d better bring the army to Eagle’s Rest as quickly as possible.”

  “We will,” Jade said. “That will make life harder for any would-be assassins.”

  “Maybe,” Emily said. She yawned, despite herself. “I’m going to get a nap. I’ll see you all at dinner.”

  Cat followed her as she walked out the door. “Is your chest feeling any better?”

  “The pain has gone,” Emily said. Her skin felt prickly, as if she’d had a mild electric shock, but that was hardly uncommon when salve had been applied. “And I can breathe normally.”

  “That’s good,” Cat said. “Still...”

  He shook his head. “You got lucky.”

  “I know,” Emily said. “Most sorcerers would have been killed.”

  “And he’s still out there.” Cat smiled, suddenly. “Maybe he’ll follow us to Eagle’s Rest.”

  “And then maybe we can catch him,” Emily said. She wanted to catch the sorcerer. He’d destroyed an innocent life just to get at her. “And then we can... deal with him.”

  “Kill him,” Cat said, flatly. “He’s too dangerous to be allowed to live.”

  Emily said nothing as they walked into the suite. Instead, she took off her shirt and inspected herself in the mirror. Her skin was oddly pale, as if it had regen
erated completely. It would be some time before it matched the rest of her skin. But the bruises were gone. Given time, everything would be back to normal.

  Cat stepped up behind her. “You do realize we won’t have a proper bed for weeks?”

  “I suppose not,” Emily said. “But have you ever cared about having a proper bed?”

  “No,” Cat said. “But privacy is another matter.”

  Emily turned to face him. Cat was right about one thing. It would be the last moment of privacy they would have for quite some time. They certainly couldn’t share a bed where unfriendly eyes – and she included Viscount Hansel in that category – were watching. A hint of weakness, a hint that Cat was pulling her strings... she had no doubt Hansel would find a way to use it against her. Women on the Nameless World had to work twice has hard to earn half as much respect.

  “True.” Emily kissed him, lightly. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Chapter Ten

  “YOU’LL BE FINE,” CAT SAID, THE following morning. “Really, you’ll be fine.”

  Emily glowered at him, then looked at the horse. She’d been told that the warhorse was a gentle beast, but it didn’t look gentle. It looked as if it was just waiting for her to try to climb onto its back before it threw her off. She hesitated, adjusting her wards so she’d land gently if she was thrown off, then started to scramble onto the horse’s back. Cat stepped up behind her and gave her a push, helping her to get into place. The horse snorted rudely, but decided to tolerate her. Emily let out a sigh of relief.

  “We should just teleport,” she said, as Cat led his horse out of the stable. Emily’s horse followed, quivering with anticipation at the thought of a good long run. “That would get us there instantly.”

  “We would also be detected, instantly,” Cat pointed out. His voice was so dry that Emily just knew he was poking fun at her. “Better not to risk detection.”

  He scrambled onto the horse as they entered the courtyard. Viscount Hansel was already there, looking impatient. His brother stood next to his horse, his expression completely unreadable. Emily had the feeling he didn’t like her very much. She’d changed their world beyond repair.

  “My Lord, My Lady,” Hansel said. “Are we finally ready to depart?”

  “We are indeed,” Cat said, waving to the mounted cavalry. Alassa had offered an entire troop of horsemen, but Cat had insisted on taking no more than ten men. A large group would be far too noticeable, he’d argued. “Shall we go?”

  Emily gritted her teeth as Cat mounted his horse with casual ease. The portcullis was already opening, inviting them to canter out of the castle and onto the cobbled streets. Cat whooped, then dug in his spurs. His horse shot forward – he had to duck to avoid cracking his skull against the stone arch – and over the drawbridge. Emily’s horse followed, picking up speed rapidly as the cavalry troopers fanned out around the aristocrats. Emily simply couldn’t understand what Alassa and Jade – and Cat – saw in horses. Teleporting was so much more efficient.

  Alassa has no trouble riding a grumpy beast, she thought, as they galloped down the streets towards the city gates. I get nervous on a tame mare.

  Pedestrians scattered in all directions as the horsemen cantered faster. Emily hoped no one would get hurt. The average aristocrat wouldn’t care if a commoner got crushed under a horse’s hooves; hell, she’d once seen King Randor reward a man for making him laugh when he tumbled off a horse. Viscount Hansel didn’t seem to be paying much attention to where he was going, either. Emily prayed silently that there would be no incidents. Now, with the Great Charter being discussed eagerly throughout the barony, it would cause all sorts of problems.

  The horses passed through the gates and galloped into the countryside. Emily took a breath, then forced herself to relax as the horses moved faster and faster. She’d be in the saddle for most of the day, unless they stopped to answer the call of nature. Cat had planned to stop at the castle they’d taken, two weeks ago, and sleep there. The inns along the route were almost certainly deserted.

  Although there would be no one to complain if we used their beds, Emily thought. She’d been in enough inns to know she didn’t want to sleep in another, if it could be avoided. But the castle might be worse. There might not even be any bedding for us.

  She forced herself to keep an eye on their surroundings as they made their way down the road. Half the roadside villages looked to have been abandoned, save for a handful of elderly men and women who didn’t have anywhere to go. The larger towns were being converted into fortresses, although Emily doubted their populations would be able to put up a fight against a real army. Wooden palisades wouldn’t last long against flaming arrows, let alone cannons. She wondered, idly, just which side the townspeople would be on. They might like Alassa more than King Randor, but they wouldn’t trust her very far. The Great Charter could be nothing more than hot air.

  It will be different, she thought, as they turned to gallop along the riverside. Alassa will see to that.

  They stopped after a couple of hours to eat, drink and relieve themselves. Emily was so stiff she had to struggle to get off the horse, even though she needed a break. Cat made no move to help her. She felt a flicker of resentment, directed more at the population than Cat himself. How could they think less of her if Cat helped her to clamber off a wretched horse? But they would...

  She swallowed several angry comments as she ate her sandwiches, drank her water and finally scrambled back onto the horse. Her body was aching so much that she was tempted to take a swim in the river, even though it was flowing dangerously fast. Besides, it would be very cold. Cat shot her a reassuring look as the horses moved back onto the road and cantered on. Emily glowered at him. Next time, she’d teleport. Or take a carriage. It wouldn’t be that dangerous.

  Night was starting to fall by the time they cantered through the town and approached the castle they’d captured. Cat ordered the convoy to halt, then scrambled off his horse and walked towards the castle. Someone – Emily thought it was Sergeant Rotherham – shouted a challenge. Cat stopped and shouted back a sharp response of his own, then waited for permission to approach. Emily tensed, readying a spell. If the castle had been recaptured, they were walking right into a trap.

  “Come on,” Cat shouted. “They’re here!”

  Emily’s horse made a rude sound as she pushed it onto the bridge and into the castle’s tiny courtyard. Sergeant Rotherham saluted her as she scrambled off the beast, then directed two of his men to take the horse and rub it down. Emily allowed herself a moment of relief, although she couldn’t thank him in public. Alassa had been taught to tend to a horse, as well as ride a horse, but Emily disliked those duties too. And yet, she couldn’t help thinking that they’d been the only duties Alassa had taken seriously until she’d gone to Whitehall. Her riding tutor had been a very tough woman.

  And Randor must have taken them seriously too, Emily thought. Alassa had claimed, with a straight face, that her tutor had taken a riding crop to her after discovering that Alassa hadn’t cleaned the stable. He would have made sure Alassa knew to treat horses with respect.

  “We have constant stew in the mess,” Sergeant Rotherham said, once everyone was dismounted. “But I’m afraid we have little bread.”

  Viscount Hansel looked as if he wanted to complain, but Cat glared him into silence before he could open his mouth. Emily allowed herself a moment of pure relief. Constant stew wasn’t the nicest food she’d eaten – and she had her doubts about the wisdom of leaving a pot of food to simmer indefinitely – but it would be filling. Besides, there would be nothing else to eat. The castle’s tiny garrison hadn’t had the time to go hunting. They might not even have time to fish.

  “Thank you,” she said, as she forced herself to climb the stairs. Her body felt as if it had been beaten black and blue. “It will be more than suitable.”

  The mess was tiny, with nothing more than a large iron cauldron positioned neatly over a fireplace. Sergeant Rotherham took a set of b
owls, ladled out the food and passed it around the room. Emily took hers gratefully, sat down on the stone floor and started to eat. It tasted better than she’d expected, although she was careful not to ask what was actually in it. Her training in survival had taught her that there were some questions best not asked -- or answered.

  “You’ll be coming with us to Eagle’s Rest,” Cat said, as he chewed his food. “Sergeant Hobbs will take over the garrison.”

  Sergeant Rotherham nodded, stiffly. “As My Lordship pleases.”

  Emily nodded in sympathy. Sergeant Rotherham had been in command of the castle. He wouldn’t be happy to be subordinated to Cat – and Emily – again. But there was no choice. They needed a reliable man in Eagle’s Rest, and Rotherham was extremely reliable. She made a mental note to ensure he was rewarded – and promoted – and staggered to her feet. Her legs threatened to give out.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of clearing my room for you, My Lady,” Sergeant Rotherham said, briskly. “But everyone else will have to bed down here.”

  “You must have better quarters,” Hansel said, tightly. He eyed his half-eaten bowl of stew as if he expected the contents to come back to life, jump out of the sauce and try to strangle him. “I cannot be expected to sleep here...”

  “You can sleep outside if you like, My Lord,” Sergeant Rotherham said. “But I could not guarantee your safety.”

  “This is a very small castle,” Cat added.

  Emily shrugged and allowed Sergeant Rotherham to lead her up the stairs into a tiny bedroom. It was so small – the bed was barely large enough for a grown man – that she wondered how King Randor’s liegeman had coped. He’d probably expected a bedroom consummate with his status, like Hansel. Perhaps the king had found another way to reward him. Or, more likely, he’d been raised from the ranks. He wouldn’t have the arrogance of a born nobleman.

  “Have a good sleep, My Lady,” Sergeant Rotherham said. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

  Emily didn’t bother to do more than remove her boots before she lay on the bed and closed her eyes. The mattress was so uncomfortable that she thought it was stuffed with rocks, but she fell asleep within seconds anyway. The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her shoulder and whispering for her to wake up. Emily jerked upright, one hand scrabbling for the virgin blade in her sleeve. Cat was looking down at her, his face grim.